That Was A Week That Was (8-14 February '24)
Sleepers, winter pruning, Valentine's sponge and a triple Bacardi.
Thursday 8 February:
The last week has seen Jack, my very handy, ‘can turn his hands to practically anything’ guy, deconstructing the decaying, upright, softwood sleeper retaining wall in my back garden. Jack’s not really mine, of course, that sounds rather grand, but he was ‘mine’ last week. Built just five years ago, (the retaining wall, not Jack), by a so-called 'professional' landscaper (I should have seen the warning signs when said ‘professional’ landscaper arrived Stetson-clad, on horseback), the wall was beginning to resemble the rather gappy, stained-teeth look of a geriatric goat.
I was keen to have the work completed as early as possible in the new year to avoid the dessimation and decapitation of my beloved snowdrops and emergent spring bulbs. I'm happy to report, mission well and truly accomplished - well done Agent Jack!
The new, horizontally laid, hardwood sleepers are looking, well, slightly incongruous, truth to tell. They're overtly obvious at the moment, but I know they'll age and look all weathered in, much like their extremely happy owner, in no time whatsoever.
A drift of bright, pea-green Cornus sericea ‘Flaviramea’ needed uprooting during the course of the work to accommodate the squarer corner of the new wall, so I spent the day repositioning and finally replanting them in a close by corner, but, planted closer than before, to optimise on their winter interest impact. They now look eye-poppingly perfect in front of a dark, charcoal painted brick wall. In a few weeks time as fresh foliage starts to form on the stems, the ever-charming Alexa will be heard to announce, "Michael, here is your reminder to coppice your corners' (yes, Alexa still struggles with the horticultural nuances of Latin). The 'cornus' stems get cut down to just above ground level, which seems pretty brutal, but the secateur wielding gardener is rewarded for their bravery with fresh, bright, shiny new stems within months, which will positively pulsate in the dreary, grey days of next winter. Left unpruned, cornus stems lose their vibrancy and impact. In more good news, the pencil thick prunings, chopped into 30cm lengths can be inserted into a gritty compost to make cornus babies. Just make sure the stems are kept the right way up, i.e. bottom lowermost: like us, they don't perform too well if inserted head first into a pot of damp compost! Within a matter of weeks, and once a healthy root system has formed from the base of the stems, they can be knocked out of their nursery pot, separated and potted on individually into a John Innes No 2 loam and left to put roots down over the season. In September/October, with the soil, still (hopefully) warm, they can be planted out into their final positions to grow away. You’re welcome!
Sunday 11 February:
On Friday, March 27, 2020, the first week of lockdown, I took to Instagram each Friday to share my garden with whoever had nothing better to do at the time. And let's face it, none of us had anything much better to do, so I had a fairly captive audience... of six! Four years later, the ‘Weekly Wander’, as it was known then, became the ‘Sunday Stroll’, which, although not strictly weekly, is a fairly regular occurrence. I'm also overjoyed to report that my ‘audience’ (or the ‘back row’ as I call them - they’re so naughty) has grown from six to a rather impressive 150-plus. If you’re really strapped for things to do, you can catch me on Instagram by tapping this link.
But, this Sunday was a ‘day off’ for me as we intended to hit a beautiful, winter garden or GC (garden centre - not that Gemma Collins ‘piece’) somewhere locally, for the obligatory, tea/coffee and cake, and of course to absorb ourselves fully in plants, more plants, and then just a few more.
For hours the evening before, and then upon pulling ourselves from our pit in the morning, an annoyingly, scratched record of “So, where do you want to go” was heard echoing around the house.
“You chose, I don’t mind“ came the response.
“I always choose, and if I choose, it will be a garden centre or a garden which you don’t really want to do”, I batted back.
Does this exchange sound familiar to you? Is this just us?
Midday saw us arriving at ‘Holme for Gardens’, a favourite, local(ish) GC with attached, stunning garden. To comply with the harsh, current garden visiting legislation, a steaming latte, one frothy cappuccino, an oversized lemon and white chocolate muffin, and a wedge of strawberry and vanilla Valentine’s sponge was ‘forced’ upon us - after we had dutifully paid. Crumbs brushed aside, we headed out into the glorious, sun-drenched gardens of Holme. The ‘Holme for Gardens’ website states:
The basic layout is strongly influenced by gardens such as Hidcote Manor and The Laskett in that the garden is made up of distinct ‘rooms’ separated by hedges and areas of taller planting but linked by walks and the visitor is lead on by vistas and focal points and an urge to discover what is round the corner. The garden is still in its infancy and has a long way to go before it can be billed alongside the two aforementioned gardens but regular visitors love seeing the garden develop with more additions and expansions occurring each year.
I've been lucky enough to see a few Winter Gardens in recent weeks, including RHS, Wisley, and that at Sir Harold Hillier Gardens, and, although on a much smaller scale, the Holme Winter Garden was exquisite, with obligatory stems of red, orange and yellow cornus, uplifting clumps of daffs and a selection of pink-hued heathers (inspired by the local flora) and stark, white stemmed silver birches. A stone circle formed from 2-tonne Purbeck stone monoliths provides further drama. Definitely a garden to add to your #GardenVisitWishList. We have about three or four visits per year, always culminating in a cheeky wander around the well-stocked GC.
Monday 12 February:
It would've been rude to have rushed out and started my New Year’s keep fit campaign on January 1st, so I've purposely waited until February 12th to make a start. Believe that, my friends, and you'll believe anything! However, today did see me back on my trusty steed bike, puffing and panting, like a good ‘un. Due to work commitments, this occurrence won't happen again until Thursday morning, but, little and often is what they say, isn’t it? Plus, it will keep saddle soreness at bay.
An afternoon in the watery, February sunshine has allowed me to be extremely productive. But, what does one do in the garden at this time of year? Well, let me share with you exactly what I'm doing:
Firstly, I have to qualify that I'm a bit of a neat-freak, so the following will be of no interest whatsoever to some of you, and that's fine. When I first started gardening, I was told that if you only have a short amount of time, then edge the lawn, as it sets everything off, giving a crisp and tidy appearance. As a fastidiously, neat Virgoan, that ticks boxes with me. And, given lawns to grow during the monotonous months of winter, if the temperature is above 10°C, there was work to be done. And that's one thing, I've noticed with global warming; winter temperatures are generally a few degrees higher than they've ever been before, particularly down here on the ‘tropical’ south coast.
Any remaining, standing perennials, that have bravely battled the winter elements, are now cut down, including my beloved ornamental grasses. Each faded plant cut down to just above ground level and the prunings chopped up and composted. Verbena bonariensis, a great bedfellow with ornamental grasses, has a tendency to self seed across my garden. However, the somewhat scratchy, superfluous, square-shaped stems can be razed to the ground, and, I often find a clutch of immature, red-flushed shoots at the base waiting to rocket skywards in the weeks and months ahead. The new growth on existing plants is a better option than the self-sown seedlings that often compete with each other, and perform poorly.
With secateurs still in hand, my Sambucus ‘Black Lace’, the black elderberry tree, brooding, dark-purple, buds swelling on the pale fawn stems, came in for a short back and sides. Sambucus can be cut back hard, cutting just above a pair of buds, which are help opposite each other, however, the harder you prune, the larger the resultant foliage and the faster and stronger it will grow away. Sambucus is one of those very obliging shrubs that actually shows gardeners how low it can be pruned it: you'll see the dark buds along the stems and right down to the base of the plant. I chop my sambucus down by approximately half; if I cut it any harder, it has a tendency to swamp other plants in the border.
Tuesday 13th February:
Ugh! Rain stops play.
I was chatting with Tamsin Westhorpe (CLANG! name drop), just a few days ago, and recoiled in horror (I’m prone to being slightly dramatic), when she told me how her Uncle Raymond had told her that ‘we've not yet had winter’. As the wind howled and the rain beat incessently against my windows, these words ran continually through my brain box. Let's keep our fingers crossed, and hope for the very best, as I've got shorts and T-shirts waiting in the wings for spring.
Had a brilliant chat with the Queen of Herbs, Herb Nut, Jekka McVicar (CLANG!) this morning. Listen out for the ‘Mike the Gardener - Gardening Podcast on 7th March and you’ll understand why ‘Queen of Herbs’ has been crossed out. I don't think that title sits too comfortably with Jekka, but we still had the very best chat which I know you will love.
Wednesday 14th February:
Valentine's Day.
I work with my very good friend, Otis (the gardener), every other Wednesday, and we always start the day with a fantastic, (very unhealthy) breakfast at a local eatery. It was even more enjoyable today as it wasn't my turn to pay! However, driving rain, and high winds ‘forced’ us to visit our local trade nursery. Although selecting plants for clients, it always feels rather rude to walk away without something for yourself. Not one for being rude, I walked away with something for myself! This time, with much restraint, I limited myself to a triple Bacardi. Whilst ‘it's 5 o'clock somewhere’, this ‘Barcardi’ is actually a rather delightful, decorative dahlia with a burgundy centre and coral-edged petals, so which I took three. Cheers, my dears!
I hope you've enjoyed this little peek into my ‘working’ week, and there will be more, no doubt, but I’ll not commit, quite yet, to a weekly update.
As always, your lovely comments, feedback, views, opinions and thoughts are most welcome in the comments down below.
Be back soon!
Thanks Chen. Yes a nicely balanced week. Thanks for reading.
Thanks Annie, Already making notes for the next one. Thanks for reading!